


and i will (wish i) never let you go

by krizzlesandblues



Series: you'll find me anywhere [4]
Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Civil War, Coffee Shops, M/M, Realizations, drunk club nights, no sorry i do not write smut, somewhat a song fic, temporary farewells, the paths are crossed once more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-04 05:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krizzlesandblues/pseuds/krizzlesandblues
Summary: Maybe, even in the haze of alcohol and confusion and lust, I might get to say the words right.Or probably, before the end closes in.





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

> this will be the last part of the series meant to lay (almost) everything out and answer all questions that must have been raised on the first story (promise me you’ll meet me). after all, the first one was so blurry (I somewhat made it that way) and it deserves to be answered.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _remember what they said about alcohol and flames? it really ain't a good combination._

_-sixth day of Seungyoon’s stay-_

“What!?” Seungyoon exclaimed at Jiho. “What are you talking about?”  
  
Jiho grinned. “Come on, Seungyoonie—it won’t hurt, promise.”  
  
“But—” Seungyoon stammered, struggling to find the right words to say. “Hyung, a-are you insane?!”  
  
The older man shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”  
  
Seungyoon gaped at him, uncomprehending.  
  
Jiho sighed and rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Seungyoon. You don’t need to be this serious about it. It’ll be fine.”  
  
“But—”  
  
“Besides, you’re beyond the legal age already. What’s wrong with going to the clubs here in Seoul? I heard that the clubs in Hongdae are promising.”  
  
Really, Seungyoon had no problems with going to a club—he had Jiho with him anyway. Besides, no one will _ever_ report that they actually went clubbing; it won’t make any difference whether he was from the North or not.  
  
It’s just that—  
  
“I’ll keep an eye on you just in case you drink too much again,” Jiho grinned teasingly and ruffled Seungyoon’s hair. “Really, you and your low alcohol tolerance.”  
  
“Hyung!” Seungyoon whined, his face flushing in embarrassment.  
  
Jiho laughed out loud. “So, you coming with me or what?”  
  
Seungyoon huffed, pouting at him. _Honestly, this hyung—_  
  
Jiho couldn’t resist pinching his cheeks at this point, saying “Oochoo-choo-choo, why is my Ddeungyoonie so cute~?”  
  
“Hyung!!”Seungyoon whined once more, looking even cuter in Jiho’s (unable-to-resist-everything-cute) eyes.  
  
Jiho smiled and patted Seungyoon’s head. “Relax, Seungyoon. I know my tidbit yesterday stressed you out—I’m really sorry about that—but just this time, have some fun. You’re missing quite a lot in your youth,” his eyes spoke of a sad story Seungyoon could understand.  
  
“All right, all right—but promise me you won’t get that wasted!” Seungyoon nagged, glaring at him.  
  
“Hey—did that just come from someone who can’t even stay sober after two large glasses of beer?”  
  
“Hyung!!”  
  
\--  
  
As promised, Hongdae offered a variety of clubs anyone can bounce their bodies into. However, according to Jiho (or at least, according to Jiho’s friends in the South), Club Gabbia was the most promising of them all, as it offered the best drinks, music—and of course, women who frequented this club are nothing short of irresistible.  
  
Seungyoon was squirming behind Jiho as they passed by the sea of dancing bodies, regretting his decision to actually come with him. He could’ve finished his report by now, maybe even getting some decent sleep—but here he was.  
  
“Stop acting like that,” Jiho hissed. “They’d think I brought a teenager with me.”  
  
“Jeez, hyung, why did we even go here?!” Seungyoon complained. “There are so many clubs in Hongdae alone—why did it have to be in this club?”  
  
Jiho wrapped an arm around Seungyoon’s waist and dragged his body with him as he walked towards the bar. “It’s because I’m also going to go up there and be some sort of a DJ and . . . hip hop rapper.”  
  
Seungyoon sharply turned his head towards him, his eyes widening. “No kidding?”  
  
Jiho grinned widely. “That’s my boy. Do I look like I’m kidding?”  
  
Seungyoon was still staring at Jiho in amazement when they finally arrived at the bar. Meanwhile, Jiho was ordering the drinks for them both, and noticing Seungyoon’s disbelieving stare, he laughed. “Seungyoon, calm down. I’m neither the best rapper nor DJ at all—what’s with that look?”  
  
“But it’ll be the first time I’ll see you perform that,” Seungyoon said, smiling. “You never did that whenever we’re back home.”  
  
Jiho laughed. “That’s true.”  
  
This was one of the things Seungyoon was honestly envious about the South—the people were free to express themselves in any way possible. The South offered a wider music spectrum than the North, more genres that he himself didn't know them.  
  
Seungyoon knew a bit or two about music—he was so inclined to it. However, his hyung’s tastes introduced to him to more genres he was amazed with—hip hop and rap included. It was the genre Jiho was more comfortable with, as he grew up listening to them.  
  
Their drinks were served to them, and they raised their glasses.  
  
“I’ll look forward to that performance, hyung,” Seungyoon grinned.  
  
“Don’t get drunk,” Jiho warned. “You’ll never enjoy my performance if you get so wasted.”  
  
**  
  
“Oh, _damn_ ,” Seunghoon whistled as they went inside Club Gabbia, his smile widening Mino thought his cheeks probably hurt by now. “This is the shit!”  
  
“Seunghoon, for heaven’s sakes, just because this club is new—” Mino muttered, but Seunghoon cut him off.  
  
“No, I won’t let _your_ comments about the clubs you frequent spoil me. Now where’s that bar? I think I’ll order us some drinks,” Seunghoon asked.  
  
“Hey, have you forgotten your alcohol allergy?!” Mino hissed.  
  
“Dummy—who said I’ll order alcoholic drinks? You mentioned that this club has some light cocktails, right?” Seunghoon grinned cheekily and proceeded towards the bar. Meanwhile, Mino sat at one of the stools near the pub, sighing in irritation. He really should’ve tried harder to stop his crazy cousin from going here, dragged him away if necessary.  
  
But then again, this was _Lee Seunghoon_. Mino knew that there was absolutely no way to stop him when he wanted to have something, and he’d do _anything_ just to obtain it.  
  
Pretty soon, he heard the bass thumping, and the sickest beats Mino had ever heard in his life reverberated inside the club.  
  
_Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo_  
_Really? Yes! Okey dokey yo_  
_Say la la la la la la la la la la la_  
  
He stood up from his seat, craning his neck to see whoever it was who started to rap onstage.  
  
Club Gabbia offered open stages to anyone who wanted to perform. So long as such performance would keep the club going and have more customers inside, the management had no problem. In fact, they even paid some performers who brought more patrons.  
  
_I was born with nothing but now I have things_  
_If that’s a relief, I wouldn’t have even touched music_  
_You know hoo sure, becoming an artist who always has a full stomach and a warm back_  
_I make all rappers and beat makers watch their backs_  
_If you wanna live the good life, you can’t be slow_  
  
Mino gaped at the rapper in front—holy _shit_ , his flow was something else. It was a flow Mino had always wanted to perfect, a rhythm he’d always tried to have.  
  
_If I had to choose between money and fame_  
_I wouldn’t hesitate_  
_And just take it all_  
_Oh mother_  
_Now go out and play all you want_  
_And she said_  
  
The next thing he knew, everybody in the club was literally jumping along to the beat, their hands up in the air as they rapped along with the hook.  
  
“Man, everybody’s praising that rapper,” Seunghoon commented beside him, the drinks in his hands. “I don’t know who he is, but I heard some of them call him Zico or something. You heard of him?”  
  
“No,” Mino replied, his eyes glued on the rapper. He was practically hyping everyone up, even those who really didn’t seem to be into the club at first. “It’s the first time I heard of his name.”  
  
“Whoever that bastard is, I bet he’s gonna be asked by the owner to be a permanent part of this club,” Seunghoon chuckled. “Look at all those people bouncing as if they were hypnotized by the beat—you included.”  
  
_Don’t worry about money_  
_Let’s play, oppa will be the one who spends_  
_Too much – You just comfortably get your_  
_Groove on next to me, alright_  
_I’m a boy you’re a girl_  
_I’m a boy but you’re a girl_  
_I’m a boy you’re a girl_  
_Beautiful girls deserve to be treated_  
  
The beats were getting sicker by the moment, the drinks were real good Mino could drown in them and never regret with hangovers. Even his cousin was dancing along, his eyes alight with interest to the music. And that’s saying something, considering that Seunghoon’s a bit picky with the music he grooves with.  
  
And as Mino expected, Seunghoon’s moves were catching the eyes of some of the customers, the women most especially. He bit back a smile, knowing that his cousin might have a little action tonight. Give it a little more light cocktail, and he’ll be totally playful and flirtatious with everyone.  
  
Mino sighed internally—if he could only be as charismatic as his cousin.  
  
_Even if you recognize me_  
_Don’t be too obvious about it_  
_If all you want is to update your Insta_  
_Then get your coat and get out_  
_All you nunas with appreciative eyes_  
_Wanna see ma tattoo?_  
_Let’s flip over our phones ‘cuz we’re having a good time_  
_The moment you start getting serious, you gotta go home_  
  
Deciding to be a little braver for once, he finished his drink and went towards the front, wanting to see the rapper named Zico up close. He passed by Seunghoon, who was already chatting with a girl, and Seunghoon nodded at him. He then knew that they might leave the club separately—and one of them might go home alone.  
  
_Almost everyone is a hotshot at this party_  
_If you act awkward, you’re gonna get embarrassed_  
_Don’t reject but just drink, that’s your life shot_  
_Take a picture with anyone and that’s your life shot_  
  
He didn’t go all the way to the front—he stuck close to the second row, just a few meters away from the bar just in case he needed a drink. From this position, he could really see the Zico guy up close, and it only took a few moments before he was seriously hooked into him.  
  
Mino wished he could be friends with him at least—he’d be a great mentor for him, just in case he wanted to pursue rapping over art.  
  
_Say hello to ma little friends_  
_They’re all well-mannered_  
_I told them not to make any mistakes_  
_Don’t feel pressured, just enjoy_  
  
Soon, too soon, Zico’s performance ended, and it was met with thunderous claps and cheers from the audience. Zico screamed his thanks, and he went down the stage. Mino’s eyes followed him, and he noticed Zico going for the bar.  
  
Mino was beyond stunned when he saw Zico approaching someone so familiar—someone who caused all his confusion for the past few days—and embracing that person.  
  
But what shocked him more was the sharp pain he’d felt in his chest, and the odd sting in his eyes.  
  
\--  
  
Jiho was all grins as he walked towards Seungyoon and hugged him tight. Seungyoon embraced him back, his lanky arms tight around Jihos’s neck.  
  
“That was amazing!” Seungyoon crowed and pulled back from Jiho’s embrace. “You’re so amazing, hyung—that was—wow!”  
  
Jiho bellowed with laughter, his eyes twinkling in obvious delight. “Now you’re just exaggerating, Seungyoon-ah.”  
  
“But the crowd was so hyped—they loved you, hyung!”  
  
Jiho smiled at him. “Makes me wish it lasted longer . . .” his tone was bittersweet, and Seungyoon was silent. He could feel that Jiho wanted to truly pursue music and perform on stage; he strongly felt that as his hyung rapped his heart out to everyone.  
  
But reality hit him—them—hard, so he knew better than to waste any opportunity.  
  
Jiho motioned for the bartender and said, “Since you said that the crowd loved me, Seungyoonie, these drinks will still be on me. What would you like?”  
  
“The same drink you ordered for me earlier,” Seungyoon told him.  
  
“Oh my, I let a little wild fox loose,” Jiho said slyly and turned towards the bartender to order.  
  
**  
  
Meanwhile, Mino was staring at them with shock and confusion, questions filling his mind. Who was this Zico guy? Why was he with Seungyoon? Obviously Seungyoon _adored_ him—he wouldn’t hug him like that if he didn’t.  
  
And more importantly, what was this pain he was feeling?  
  
He went back to his table, finally realizing that he might really go home alone tonight as his cousin was nowhere to be found.  
  
_Baby, baby, I don’t like this night_  
_Baby, baby, I don’t want to be alone_  
  
Seeing a passing waiter, he gestured for him and said, “Dry vodka please—on the rocks.”  
  
It might be a good idea to get a little drunk tonight.  
  
_Let’s spend this lonely night together_  
_Let’s forget everything and get drunk all together_  
  
\--  
  
Seungyoon groaned mentally, glaring helplessly at the drunken heap in front of him.  
  
He’d honestly expected that Jiho would actually drink a _little_ too much, but would last longer than him at least. He was wrong—it was _Jiho_ who got drunk first, and _Seungyoon_ was still quite sober.  
  
Well, maybe _really_ tipsy, but at least he could still control himself.  
  
“Ugh, what should I do . . .” he muttered, rubbing his temples. He knew he couldn’t bring them back home easily, as Seungyoon’s head was fuzzed with alcohol. Plus, Jiho was heavier than Seungyoon . . .  
  
He scanned the area for anyone who would help him _drag_ the snoozing Jiho away from the club, preferably any Northerner who knew Seungyoon or Jiho. Unfortunately, he spotted none.  
  
_Jeez, Jiho-hyung—so much for worrying I’d get drunk first!_  
  
To his surprise, he spotted him, just a few tables across from them, drinking some hard cocktail. Embarrassing as it may be, Seungyoon had no choice.  
  
“Mino!” he called out, but Mino didn’t hear him so he had to call a little louder. “Mino!!”  
  
Mino’s head slowly turned towards them, his dark eyes somewhat glassy with alcohol. He smiled crookedly, recognizing Seungyoon, and waved. “Yo, there! What is it?”  
  
_Is Mino drunk?_ Seungyoon thought, and he thought twice of asking help from him. But it was too late—Mino was walking towards them, his eyes on Seungyoon.  
  
And for some crazy reason, Seungyoon could feel the atmosphere get a little more stuffy—hotter, even. It was like something was starting to catch fire on the surface, and it won’t be soon before the flames’ tongues touch him.  
  
“Uh, I need some help,” Seungyoon stammered, trying to calm himself down and not letting the alcohol get the best of him. “Jiho-hyung’s really drunk, and I couldn’t carry him alone back to his place. Can you help me?”  
  
“Nnn, sure,” Mino breathed, his face close to his. Seungyoon’s heart skipped two beats, and went into haywire. Already the flames were touching him . . .  
  
“Thanks,” he whispered, his eyes now locked on Mino’s hypnotizing gaze. His dark, piercing eyes were slowly disintegrating Seungyoon’s sanity, and _lord help him,_ it’s just a few more inches before he could kiss—  
  
“Umm, Ddeungyoonie . . . I wanna go home . . .” Jiho grunted, his voice muffled as his head was buried in his arm. His voice effectively broke the spell—haze—Mino and Seungyoon were locked into, and they jolted back.  
  
Mino cleared his throat, looking away and said, “Where’s his place?”  
  
“A-A few s-streets away,” Seungyoon stuttered, his cheeks flushing. “We might need to ride a taxi to take us there.”  
  
“I see,” Mino muttered. Walking towards Jiho’s left, he carefully and gently swung Jiho’s arm around him. “Oh, wait—was this that guy who performed earlier—the Zico guy?!”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Seungyoon said, chuckling awkwardly. “It’s just so embarrassing, really—to think that he was so cool onstage and now this . . .”  
  
“He was really so amazing earlier,” Mino agreed. “I’ll help him up—you help me walk him off.”  
  
Seungyoon nodded and draped Jiho’s right arm around his shoulders. “Come on, hyung, we’ll go home,” he muttered in Jiho’s ear. Thankfully, the older man complied, standing shakily. Mino and Seungyoon carried most of his weight as they went out of the club and waited for a taxi by the street.  
  
“Wait, shit!” Seungyoon exclaimed, slapping his forehead with his free hand. “I forgot to ask, did you come here in the club with someone, Mino?”  
  
“Er, yeah,” Mino replied. “But he left me alone anyway, so it’s okay.”  
  
Seungyoon sighed in relief. “Thank god. I thought I was being reckless.”  
  
After a few moments of waiting, a taxi finally arrived. The three rode at the back and Seungyoon told the driver the directions towards Jiho’s place.  
  
**  
  
Despite Jiho’s (sleeping) presence, Mino could feel something about to explode within him, an emotion he desperately tried to tone down after he almost touched Seungyoon’s lips—with his own.  
  
It was insane, beyond ludicrous already—why did he feel this way towards him? He knew this wasn’t something normal between _friends_ , but Seungyoon’s wide, innocent eyes and full lips were inviting him in . . .  
Mino shook his head, praying that somebody—or something, he didn’t care at this point—would effectively distract him from his wayward thoughts.  
  
He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol doing the thing or not, but he was sure of one thing.  
  
Seungyoon, for all his innocence, would someday be the _death_ of him. And the death by unwanted flames—starts _now_.  
  
They finally reached Jiho’s place, and after paying the fare, went out of the taxi with Jiho between them. He was still out, and getting heavier by the minute as they trudged towards Jiho’s apartment. Thankfully, Seungyoon had a duplicate of Jiho’s key, so they had no problems getting inside and tucking Jiho in bed.  
  
“Thanks for helping out, Mino,” Seungyoon smiled in gratitude. “I really hope I didn’t, uh, somewhat ruined your club mood.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Mino shrugged. “I did say I was alone after my cousin ditched me, remember?”  
  
_I’m trying so hard but you don’t know anything_  
  
Seungyoon chuckled. “Well, yes, you did. I was just thinking whether you actually didn’t mind the extra company.”  
  
“Well, it’s the company _I_ would have wanted, so no problem,” Mino muttered, staring directly in Seungyoon’s eyes.  
  
At that, the haze they felt earlier came back, this time making Mino feel headier and different than before. The flames were slowly licking his body, threatening to engulf him, as he held Seungyoon’s gaze with his own.  
  
_Or you do know but you’re acting like you don’t_  
  
He couldn’t name what exactly he felt towards him—this emotion that quickened his breath and heartbeat and dried his throat. Whatever that was, it was getting harder for him to control it, curse the vodka.  
  
He didn’t notice that he was just a few inches closer to Seungyoon, and already he could feel Seungyoon’s warmth and feel his breath.  
  
_Your eyes are like an oasis_  
_It captures me and won’t let go, I’m getting sick_  
  
“What is it?” Seungyoon murmured, the light in his brown eyes slowly darkening.  
  
“I don’t know,” Mino breathed back, his arms wrapping around Seungyoon’s waist and holding him close. He was soft and warm—very warm, and at the same time, inviting him.  
  
Mino was drunk, he knew he was—truly drunk in Seungyoon’s presence.  
  
_Take away those lips_  
_I’m not innocent baby, I’m trying so hard_  
  
\--  
  
Seungyoon was getting lost with too many emotions that were rocking in his chest, making him breathless. It didn’t help that Mino was staring at him so intensely—a stare that was threatening to ignite a spark within him he wasn’t sure he could dampen.  
  
His handsome face was so close, too close, Seungyoon could taste his breath on his tongue and feel every single inch of him.  
  
This was getting nowhere, Seungyoon knew. This was getting nowhere and with just one wrong step anything could go wrong.  
  
And basing from Mino’s dark gaze on him—he knew _it_ , too.  
  
“Mino . . .” Seungyoon whispered, his name a prayer _and _a warning.__  
  
“What do you want?” Mino asked, his fingers caressing Seungyoon’s cheek so gently.  
  
_My manly instinct is pounding_  
_The devil’s whispers light me on fire_  
  
That was it.  
  
Seungyoon wrapped his arms around Mino’s neck, pulling his face down for a kiss. He tasted of vodka with a hint of cigarette and sweet candy—and Seungyoon couldn’t get enough.  
  
_You started it, I can’t stop it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs used (in sequence)  
>  **okey dokey** \- mino, zico  
>  **boys and girls** \- zico ft. babylon  
>  **baby baby** \- winner  
>  **turn off the light** \- mino  
> 


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _let’s just hold hands and sleep_   
>  _i want to start something with you_   
>  _actually, i wanna go all the way_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i'm sorry ; A ; i was supposed to post this yesterday (thus the notice) but my network hated me TT  
> also please don't hate me on this chapter LOL

(note: normal text is mino, **bold text** is seungyoon)  
  
Mino was suddenly frozen with shock, even in his inebriated state. Seungyoon was a _guy_ , Mino was also, so what was this sudden spike of white-hot pleasure that shot through his body and started a wildfire within _him_ —?  
He found himself kissing Seungyoon back, one of his hands now fisted in his hair. His tongue danced across Seungyoon’s lower lip, asking for access, and the latter complied.  
  
Tequila and strawberries and pure sweetness— _this_ was Seungyoon, Mino thought, as he kissed him harder, his tongue dancing in Seungyoon’s mouth. They fell on the couch, with him on top, but he didn’t notice that—he was too intoxicated with _him_ , the flames now wrapping them both whole.  
Seungyoon’s whimpers and moans didn’t help to smother the flames, not to mention how he held him so close it was a wonder Mino didn’t melt yet.  
Leaving Seungyoon’s lips for a moment, he tasted his skin with soft, wet kisses, his tongue drawing a line from his jaw all the way to the hollow at the base of his throat. He nipped at his skin gently, eliciting a louder moan, and with a bite on his jugular he could feel Seungyoon's passion ignite him further.  
  
Mino wanted to stop—or at least his _rational_ side wanted to. But the rest of him—the part of him who was so attracted to the flame like the _moth_ that he was—wanted more, _more_ of Seungyoon, consume him if necessary.  
“Mino . . .” Seungyoon breathed, his fingers dancing on his hair. “Please . . .”  
“What?” Mino whispered on his skin, making Seungyoon shudder. “What is it?”  
At that, Seungyoon's eyes met his, and Mino could see those lovely fox eyes darken with uninhibited want about to explode.  
Seungyoon did not respond—instead, he kissed Mino again, forcefully this time, his tongue wanting to taste him. Mino let him, and he went insane.  
  
_What’s this?_ Mino wanted to ask, lost in the sensations and fog of passion to the point that reason was nowhere to be found. _What’s this nirvana found in something so wrong, a piece of heaven served in hell's platter—_  
Seungyoon nipped at his earlobe, and it was too late to bite back a moan.  
  
Pulling away slightly, he took off his shirt, and Mino saw Seungyoon do the same thing as well. Consumed by passion, they kissed once more, this time hungrier and wilder and sloppier Mino knew this was going somewhere.  
As if by instinct, he lifted Seungyoon's hips and aligned them with his own, grinding them together. Seungyoon let out a cry in his mouth, followed by a moan and a _‘please, Mino,’_ driving Mino crazy. He was getting harder every time they had contact, his loins practically controlling him already.  
  
A symphony of pleas echoed in the room, accompanied by an orchestra of broken breaths and sighs. They were lost in each other, as if they were drugged by each other's embrace, Seungyoon’s gasps fanning the hunger between them—  
And Mino was about to _truly_ lose it.  
  
He could’ve done it—he could’ve torn the rest of their clothes off, fully claimed Seungyoon and made him his, kissed him until sunrise and hold him. But the side of him that was terrified, the side of him that couldn't accept _this_ —somewhat kept his head afloat in this sea of uncontrollable lust.  
  
_Somewhat._  
  
With a final wave and a kiss, they let go.  
Seungyoon fell back on the couch with a groan, his eyes closed and his dewy skin pink and glowing in the dim moonlight. Mino's weight fell on his body, his face on Seungyoon’s chest, and again the _temptation_ crawled once more on his mind, goading him on, encouraging him like a sly devil to pull Seungyoon's pants down and _fuck_ him—  
  
“I love you,” he heard Seungyoon say softly amidst his panting. “I love you . . .”  
Mino froze, the devil's words forgotten.  
  
_Seungyoon . . . loved me . . . what?_  
  
Seungyoon gazed at him with half-open eyes, his face softening. “I love you, Song Mino. Do you hear me?”  
On that very second, Mino finally _realized_ it— _finally_ made sense of _everything._  
_I do, I do,_ Mino wanted to say. _I do, I do—and I love you, too._  
Yet no words could come out of his mouth—he kissed him earnestly instead, wishing that he could feel it.  
  
(Also, he hated to admit this, but he was a coward to say it out loud.)  
  
“I love you,” Seungyoon breathed against his lips. “I always did . . .” and he closed his eyes, falling asleep.  
Mino gazed at his sleeping face for a while longer and sighed. _Why couldn’t I say it?_  
_I love you, Seungyoon, I truly do—but why couldn’t I let the words out?_  
  
Standing up, he picked up his shirt, dressed himself and looked for a blanket in the cupboard. He found two—and he gently draped them over Seungyoon's body.  
Kneeling down, he kissed Seungyoon's forehead and willed himself to say the words.  
“I love you,” he whispered shakily against Seungyoon's skin. “I love you . . .”  
  
And he stood up and left.  
  
  
“You look like hell, Mino,” Seunghoon clucked his tongue, putting down the mug of tea Dana had given him earlier. “Did you drink too much last night?”  
“No,” Mino muttered, taking a seat across from him. His head was still _fucking_ pounding, some hellish beating he was sure that—  
  
**—he’ll never drink again, that was for damn sure.**  
**“Sure you did,” Jiho rolled his eyes. “I’m even sure you did something . . . way beyond you last night.”**  
**Seungyoon raised an eyebrow, and massaged his temple with his fingers when the throbbing started again. “What are you talking about?”**  
  
“You look bloody _trashed,_ then?” Seunghoon suggested, earning a glare from Mino. “Seriously, man, you really look awful. Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine,” Mino said in a low tone, taking a sip of the tea. “Really.”  
  
**Jiho shrugged, an odd look in his eye as he gave Seungyoon a cup of green tea. “Well, I don’t know either. I may or may have not imagined whatever happened, but judging on that look on your face . . . something probably did.”**  
**“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seungyoon sighed. “Are you sure that you’re sober now, hyung?”**  
**“I’m already bloody sober, Kang Seungyoon,” Jiho said, his tone slightly sharper. “By the way, who on earth helped us home last night?”**  
**“My friend did,” Seungyoon replied. “He’s Song Mino, by the way. Thankfully I spotted him last night and he willingly helped me.”**  
  
“Ah,” Seunghoon nodded. “That’s why you came home late last night.”  
Mino merely nodded, trying to block out the images flashing in his mind.  
“Did you manage to meet that Zico guy, by the way?”  
“Well, not really,” Mino half-lied. “He was with a friend, so I really couldn’t make the proper introductions.”  
Seunghoon hummed, nodding to himself. “That guy really banged the club last night.”  
_Sure_ , Mino thought, _and to think I nearly banged his friend—_  
  
**“And after that?” Jiho tilted his head, looking albeit curious.**  
**Seungyoon blinked, his mind going blank. “I . . . don’t remember.”**  
**_“What?”_**  
**“I really can’t remember, hyung,” Seungyoon insisted. “My . . . mind’s blank.”**  
**Jiho stared at him, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. “Wait . . . I thought _I_ was the one who was drunk, Seungyoon. How come you have no idea what happened?”**  
**Seungyoon’s eyes narrowed slightly as he tilted his head, getting all the more bemused by Jiho’s reactions. “Hyung . . .?”**  
**“You really have . . . no idea, have you?” Jiho asked slowly, his eyes alighting with something Seungyoon couldn’t comprehend.**  
**Seungyoon shook his head. “ . . . No.”**  
**Jiho stared at Seungyoon for a long moment and said, “Seungyoon, go take a shower. I believe you need to freshen yourself up.”**  
**Seungyoon nodded, still puzzled about Jiho’s strange antics. He wasn’t sure, but he heard Jiho mutter, “So maybe everything was just _my_ imagination?”**  
  
  
Mino squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to never remember—to simply forget what transpired that night. No, it was not that he didn’t want to remember; the epiphany might have knocked him senseless, but he is in no way . . . _terrified_ of it anymore.  
He just wanted to spare himself from any pain he might receive in the future.  
He could only pray that the water spray could just wash off everything—  
  
**—but it left marks on his skin, unmistakable marks.**  
**Bruises on his hips, a red welt by his jugular. He could’ve sworn he didn’t have them prior to them going to the club.** **However, he didn’t have any recollection of whatever happened after they dragged Jiho out of that club—**  
  
—still, they crawled on his mind, like fire that can’t just be easily smothered.  
  
_Full lips, pliant and soft—_  
**_Warm fingers, threatening to melt him—_**  
_kisses that were desperate, wild, trying to convey a message—_  
**_an unmistakable fire that threatened to consume him whole—_**  
_thin arms, wrapping him close—_  
**_his lips breathing in staccato, gasping his name—_**  
_And that white-hot—_  
  
**Seungyoon was jolted out of his blurred memories, a cold shiver running down his spine. He still wasn’t sure if it was even real, but he could feel it as his skin tingled despite the cold water raining down on him.**  
**Something, something had definitely shifted last night.**  
  
Mino groaned quietly and gasped for air, the memories still searing him whole. It wasn’t a good idea to dwell on them any longer; he’d end up—end up—just like—

_This was just as hopeless as I’d honestly known._  
  
“You’re really out of yourself, Mino,” Seunghoon noted, putting an arm around Mino as he sat beside him. “No offense, even that painting _really_ looks weird.”  
**“Are you all right, Seungyoon?” Jiho asked, bending a little to muss the younger man’s hair. “You’re very pale.”**  
  
“Is that so? I’ll just paint a new one.”  
**“I’m fine, hyung, thanks.”**  
  
  
The news dropped earlier than expected. It was all over the South—newspapers, the radio stations, posters, flyers, vocal announcements, town rumors.  
It was _everywhere_.  
As a result, the festival’s mood morphed from cheerful to fearful, from trusting to wary. The shops closed early, the stalls were gone, and all Northerners and Southerners refused to talk to each other.  
This was it.  
This could be the end of a beginning, or the beginning of an end.


	3. part iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my dear, are you well?  
> now i’m finally asking, even though you’re there  
> i’m sure i’ll see you at my end  
> why am i regretting now? till then  
>   
>  _have a good day_  
> 

_Before_  
  
Seunghoon’s face was taut as he read the newspaper, his lips pursed. Meanwhile, Mino’s parents were arguing quietly on the living room, taking quick glances at Seunghoon and Mino every now and then. Dana had retired to her room; Mino paid them no attention as he focused on his sketchbook.  
Three taps on the door shattered the tense lull, and Mino’s father stood up to answer it.  
  
Jiho handed Seungyoon a letter, his face devoid of emotions. Seungyoon didn’t need to ask its contents—his hyung’s expression was enough.  
  
_The war starts soon._  
  
They really have no idea why, but the sudden urge to go to the meadow flashed in their minds and compelled their feet to walk.  
They aren’t even sure if they’d meet.  
But, if on that day destiny crossed their paths years ago, maybe this time fate will not fail them.  
  
_Even for the last time._  
  
_After_  
  
Gunshots. Bombs. Endless exchange of words and bullets.  
_It will not end soon,_ Mino thinks.  
The war will not end quickly as he’d hoped.  
He laughs wryly and chokes up blood. Even in his state, the war will not end.  
For him. For _them_.  
  
_Seungyoon_ , he breathes. He utters his name like a prayer, a last lifeline to hold onto.  
He remembers how they melted in each other’s arms that drunken night and the promise he uttered to him in the meadow, and he smiles.  
Tears course down his cheeks.  
He closes his eyes, whispering an apology, as the grenade thrown by the man he’d known as Zico explodes.  
  
_‘But I will really, really meet you soon.’_  
  
  
_in one lifetime i met you, loved you, and lost you_  
  
  
Seungyoon gently puts down the basket of azaleas by the gravestone and sits down on the grass. The spring breeze tells him that rain may pour anytime soon, but he didn’t care.  
“How’s it so far up there, hyung?” he asks into the air, in the nothingness. “Is it really peaceful up there as they all tell us?”  
He expects no answer; the man he was talking to is sleeping peacefully anyway. _For eternity._  
  
“I think . . . I’ll never be with anyone, hyung. No matter how many times they tell me to settle down,” Seungyoon says ruefully, the gaping hole in his chest aching once more.  
It might have been several years after the war ended, but the pain of loss and heartache is still as fresh as it had been on that day.  
  
Jiho had been shot right in front of his eyes, after the older threw a grenade on that area where the wounded Northern soldiers hid. It had been terrifying and agonizing for him—gunshots still rained down on them, orders were still being barked, and a sea of bloodied corpses filled the once-lively streets of Hongdae.  
He mourned over the loss of his friend, but it deeply crushed him when he couldn’t find out about Song Mino’s whereabouts.  
  
Especially when he knew that he might never hear from him ever again.  
  
His eyes burn with tears he cannot shed, and a heavy lump forms on his throat.  
“Tell him I miss him, hyung,” he whispers in a choked voice. “If you ever see him.”  
  
Light rain starts to pour down, dampening his clothes, and Seungyoon rises up. It’s his cue to leave.  
“I’ll see you again,” he looks up to the sky, a bittersweet smile on his lips. “And I’ll go back to the meadow once the order is lifted.”  
  
_i will wait for you, in the next lifetime—to love you and never let you go_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the epilogue will be posted tomorrow or on the day after, please stay tuned :)]


	4. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything disappears and changes  
> there’s no such thing as forever  
> that’s what I believed  
> but the one thing that’ll never change  
>   
> that’s probably you  
> 

Mino jolts up from his sleep, a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead.  
_It’s that kind of dream again._

This time, on his dream, he was on a large cemetery, watching the boy place the basket of flowers by a gravestone from afar. His beautiful face was filled with grief and longing, yet his eyes sparked with hope.  
And Mino never understood why—as he watched that boy speak softly to the gravestone, his heart ached so much he wanted to cry. 

Or to be more exact—he wanted to embrace that boy _and_ cry.

Mino’s aware that he can be _quite_ the crybaby, but he has never felt such . . . _anguish_ , even if it is from the strange dreams he has been having recently.  
By strange, he had dreams of exploring Seoul with _that boy_ , talking about the differences between the places where they come from, having some sort of connection with him . . . and realizing something—wait, what was that _something_ again?

He shakes his head and rises up from the bed to grab a glass of water.  
He concludes that these dreams must be from all that reports he has to finish with his annoying-but-supportive-anyway best friend—which are due soon.  
Annoying essays.

But why his heart always overflowed with longing to meet that boy in his dreams, he has no idea—although he’s pretty sure it’s not because of the extra researches he do.

Maybe just out of curiosity, he thinks.  
—  
“This just sucks!” Jihoon exclaims, stretching his arms then burying his face on his hands. “Why is history so—so _heavy_?!”  
“You don’t say,” Mino sighs, closing the book he’d been reading. The two are finishing up a report regarding the Civil War in Korea, and doing extra readings just in case. “Not just heavy, it’s . . . heartbreaking. Imagine the families and loved ones separated for a long time . . .”  
And that strange _ache_ —it’s back again, pinching his heart.

It had been like this for days ever since they started doing the research. Mino would have weird images flashing through his mind whenever he reads the text from his book, like memories that were so strange, but somehow felt . . . familiar to him.  
He suddenly remembers all the blurred dreams about _that boy_ exploring the streets of Seoul many, many years ago, a boy whose face he could not see clearly and a name he couldn’t articulate—

Jihoon suddenly straightens up and suggests, “Hey—why don’t we go to a café first? I want some pastries and a smoothie.”  
“Sure,” Mino agrees and stands up. He’d been craving for an iced Americano anyway. “Where to?”  
“The new one two blocks from here. Let’s go!”  
—  
“Well, this is quite fancy,” Mino comments as they arrive at the café. It is pretty small, despite having two floors, but it had a classic, homey feeling—similar to all the coffee shops Mino had visited when he was once in London.  
“And they serve good stuff,” Jihoon adds, and opens the door.

The sweet smell of vanilla and cakes greets them, and the scent of wildflowers fills their nostrils. A few bunches of blue wildflowers are scattered around the interior, and several vases filled with those blooms sit on the counter.  
Mino stills, recognizing the blue flowers. Where had he seen them? _Why are the flowers so familiar—?_  
“Welcome,” a rich, dulcet voice greets them, and Mino turns toward the boy behind the counter.

Peach-blond hair, lovely fox eyes, soft rosy cheeks, full lips turned up into a smile. A beautiful, youthful face that captured Mino’s attention—  
—and his heart was . . . _aching_. A sweet, longing, familiar ache. 

As if he’d met the boy before—

“Um, I’ll have the cheesecake and banana smoothie please,” Mino hears Jihoon say. “How about you?”  
Mino blinks, and replies dazedly, “Iced Americano . . . and strawberry pie.”  
The boy nods and enters their orders. Meanwhile, Mino continues to stare—gape—at him, trying to comprehend the sudden tide of emotions in his chest.

“Your names, please?” the boy asks.  
“I’m Pyo Jihoon,” Jihoon tells him. “And the one who ordered Americano is Song Mino.”  
“Song Mino,” the boy says softly to himself, and his eyes glow. The boy meets Mino’s eyes, and Mino feels warmth fill him to the tips of his fingers.

And—in a snap, everything falls into place.

It’s _him_.

It’s _that boy_ in his strange dreams, dreams of walking with him in the streets of Seoul and eating ice cream sticks on an abandoned playground.  
It’s _that boy_ who gave him those flowers in the meadow, those blue blooms scattered in the café.  
And he has met him, in whatever parallel universe they were in.

_‘We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it. Maybe not soon, but we will,’ the boy named Seungyoon assures him, his thin arms around Mino’s body._

Mino doesn’t believe the whole soulmate thing, but right now—he’s convinced it’s real.

“I’ll get us some seats, you get the food,” Jihoon whispers and leaves to find a table on the second floor.  
Mino recognizes him now, remembers everything clearly, understands everything fully, but just to be sure he asks the boy, “What’s your name?”

The boy smiles and holds out his hand. “I’m Kang Seungyoon,” he replies. “It’s nice to . . . _finally_ meet you again, Mino.”  
Mino takes his hand firmly, and electricity flows through his skin. And he knows—through Seungyoon’s eyes—that he feels it, too.

“Yeah,” he smiles so wide as his heart sings. And—although it sounds so odd to him, it feels so . . . _right_ to say this, as if he’d waited for almost a century to do it—he says softly, “I’m glad I managed to keep my promise.”  
_‘I’ll come and find you, after all this is over.’_

Seungyoon’s smile widens, his face brightening. “Yes, you did,” he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading my series!!! i love you all guys from the bottom of my heart. *^___^*


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